


sometimes you gotta scratch that itch

by astano



Category: Glee
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-14
Updated: 2012-01-14
Packaged: 2017-10-29 12:54:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,711
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/320096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/astano/pseuds/astano
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(561): Just had sex in the basement of the library… I knew I was paying $120,000 for something more than a law degree</p>
            </blockquote>





	sometimes you gotta scratch that itch

So, the thing about law school is that it sucks. Like, seriously sucks. But Santana knows it’s going to pay off in the long run. Deferred gratification or some shit like that. It’s the only thing that makes the long days studying in the dingy law section of the university’s library worth every second.

Well that, and the girl waiting at home for her every night.

Thinking of her girlfriend, Santana fires off a quick text, letting her know she’s probably going to be late home. It doesn’t normally matter because Rachel has shows five evenings a week, but today is one of her days off and they usually make it a point to spend at least some of that time together.

A few minutes later, her phone vibrates and she glances at Rachel’s response and smiles.

 _Don’t tire yourself out too much_ , _you know the brain is best at absorbing information when it’s fresh. And remember to eat something! I love you._

 _I know and I will. Love you too,_ she sends back before getting lost in her work once again.

xxxxxx

It’s easy to lose track of time when there’s no natural light giving evidence to the passing of the day, so Santana doesn’t really know how long she’s been studying. She’s managed to work through several chapters of her constitutional law textbook and is leaning back in her chair, stretching out cramped muscles, when she feels a hand on her shoulder.

She jumps – there’s been no one else around for hours – and whips her head around, her heart finally settling in her chest when she sees her girlfriend standing behind her.

“Jesus Christ, Rach, you scared the shit outta me,” she says.

“Hello to you, too,” Rachel says before leaning down for a quick kiss.

Santana hums and pulls back, smiling up at Rachel. “Not that I’m complaining, but what are you doing here?”

“I brought dinner,” Rachel says, holding up two paper bags. “Because I’m guessing you haven’t eaten anything yet, even though I _did_ make a point to remind you.”

Santana looks sheepish as she shakes her head and takes one of the offered bags.

“So, what are you studying today,” Rachel asks before taking a bite of her sandwich.

“Constitutional law,” Santana says. “Otherwise known as the most boring, stupid shit in existence.”

Rachel makes a ‘go on’ motion with her hands and Santana gives her the highlights of her day’s study between mouthfuls of food. By the time they’ve finished eating, Santana notices a certain look in Rachel’s eyes and has to bite back a chuckle.

“What the hell, Rach,” she says. “Why does it look like me talking about the driest subject in the whole of the US legal system is turning you on.”

Rachel has the good grace to blush. “It’s not, exactly.” Santana arches her eyebrow. “It’s just, hearing you talk, you sound so intelligent—I mean, I _know_ you’re intelligent, obviously, but hearing it evidenced and watching you speak—God, you are so sexy right now.”

“I am, huh?”

Rachel nods and shifts a little closer to Santana, dropping her hand from the tabletop to grip Santana’s thigh. “Just imagining you,” she says, voice low in Santana’s ear. “In a few years, strutting around the courtroom, all dressed up in hot little power suit... skirt just slightly too short to be decent, letting everyone think you’re just a pretty face... then just _tearing_ down opposing counsel with your superior knowledge— _God_ it’s making me so hot for you.”

Santana stutters in a breath as Rachel’s hand slides a little higher and digs in a little harder. “Jesus, we’re in a fucking library, Rach. We can’t do this here.”

“But I want you so badly, baby.”

Santana shivers at the feel of Rachel’s breath, hot on her neck and fails to contain the low groan that spills out when Rachel parts her legs effortlessly and cups her through her jeans. It’s really not fair in the slightest; she’s never been able to resist Rachel, not since the first time. Her body’s already humming, craving more contact. “Not here,” she says. “Come with me.”

They abandon their table, Santana pulling Rachel by the hand, deeper into the stacks at the back of the library. It’s dark and musty back here, the tomes of old legal reference books rising high above them and bathing them in shadows.

She pushes Rachel back against one of the shelves and bends down, bringing their lips together. Rachel’s hands come up to thread through her hair, tugging slightly at the nape of her neck and Santana groans as a bolt of pleasure shots through her at the sharp pain, settling into a insistent throbbing between her legs.

“I can’t believe we’re gunna do this,” she mumbles between kisses.

“Too much talking, not enough touching.”

“You’re gunna get me kicked out of school,” Santana says, but nevertheless, brings her hands up to slide under Rachel’s top. Her nails scratch a path upwards and she smirks as Rachel’s breath catches in her throat and her head falls backwards against the books.

“More,” Rachel demands, her voice deepening with her growing arousal.

Santana pushes the fabric of Rachel’s top upwards, baring her breasts and, of course, Rachel’s not wearing a bra because she fucking planned this. Her nipple’s are hard points, just begging to be taken into Santana’s mouth and, well, she’s not one to turn down an invitation that appealing. Rachel moans and tugs harder on Santana’s hair as first one nipple, then the other is enveloped inside Santana’s mouth. She rolls her tongue over the tips, flicking back and forth between them until Rachel is flushed and panting. Her head’s tossing restlessly against the shelves behind her and she’s releasing needy little whimpers of pleasure with every other breath.

When the fingers gripping the back of her head start an insistent push downwards, Santana abandons Rachel’s breasts, trailing kisses across her stomach. She dips her tongue briefly into the hollow of Rachel’s navel, causing a breathless whine and a mutter of, ‘stop teasing,’ to be released from above. Smiling at Rachel’s protests, she repeats the motion, swirling her tongue a few times for good measure.

She sinks completely to her knees, her face inches away from Rachel’s skirt-covered centre, and _God_ , the smell of her arousal is intoxicating. She’s pretty sure, when she gets under Rachel’s skirt, there’s going to be no panties either, and, although it’s going to make things a damn sight easier for her, she’s not too sure how Rachel even dares to walk around commando when the skirts she wears barely cover her ass on a good day.

The skirt gets pushed up and Rachel bucks her hips desperately but Santana pauses, taking a moment to enjoy the sight of her girlfriend, so ready for her, so wet—fucking dripping, really. She tells Rachel that, tells her how good she smells, and Rachel whimpers. When Santana looks up, her eyes are closed, face flushed and she’s biting her lip in anticipation.

“Can you be quiet, baby?” Santana asks and Rachel nods her head frantically.

“Yes. _Please_ , Santana,” She moans thickly.

Santana leans forward, dragging her tongue up through Rachel’s folds. Rachel shudders above her and releases a groan from the back of her throat that, while not exactly quiet, is more subdued than her normal vocalisations.

Santana groans in turn at the taste of her girlfriend and repeats the motion of her tongue, sliding it further this time and rolling it over Rachel’s clit. Rachel sucks in a deep breath and jerks her hips at the contact, muttering words Santana can’t quite make out.

She’s working Rachel’s clit consistently now, the flat of her tongue sliding over it again and again. Rachel’s trembling and rolling her hips faster, one hand clutching desperately at the back of Santana’s head, the other scrambling for purchase against the shelves of the bookcase.

Santana lets go of Rachel’s skirt with one hand and brings her fingers down to Rachel’s entrance, circling a few times before pushing inside. She curls and rubs and Rachel’s head slams back, hitting the edge of a shelf with a loud _thud_. Santana pauses and glances up to check that she’s okay but Rachel shakes her head and digs her fingers harder into the nape of Santana’s neck, “Don’t stop, don’t stop,” coming out in a breathless moan.

The thing is, although she _says_ she can be quiet, Santana knows Rachel can get loud—really fucking loud—and, although they’re alone down here, there are still people around on the upper levels of the library and, as much as Santana enjoys sex with her girlfriend, she really, really doesn’t want to get banned from the building—or worse. When she feels Rachel begin to tighten around her fingers, hears the sharp cries coming more frequently, and knows she’s right on the edge, she pulls herself up. Rachel whines briefly at the loss of contact on her clit, but Santana manages to angle her hand so she can continue thrusting inside and roll her thumb over the bundle of nerves.

She scrapes her teeth briefly over the skin on Rachel’s collarbone before moving to cover Rachel’s mouth with her own, swallowing the cries of pleasure as best she can. It doesn’t take much, a few more thrusts and a particularly hard press of her thumb and Rachel’s coming hard, soaking Santana’s hand with a flood of wetness.

Santana works her down with a few leisurely strokes of her fingers, pulling out when she’s sure Rachel’s over the last aftershocks of her orgasm.

“We need to do this more often,” Rachel says after a pause, still a little breathless.

“You’re just a little kinky bitch, aren’t you.”

“Don’t try to tell me you didn’t enjoy that just as much as me.”

Santana rolls her eyes. “I dunno,” she says. “I mean, I haven’t even had an orgasm yet, so I can’t really judge.”

Rachel swats her playfully before abruptly switching their positions and sliding a thigh up between Santana’s legs. “Do you think _you_ can keep quiet?” She asks.

Santana groans, gripping Rachel’s hips and grinding down. “We’ll just have to see, won’t we?” She says.


End file.
